


Happy Birthday! (which one?)

by mttraspberrypie



Series: Tales of a Sweet Spider-Son and His Embarrassing Irondad [8]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Birthday, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 11:18:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20208874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mttraspberrypie/pseuds/mttraspberrypie
Summary: Peter doesn't like to celebrate his birthday.He doesn't think he ever will.READ THE DESCRIPTION/TAGS





	Happy Birthday! (which one?)

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: There is rape in this chapter. I don not go into detail about it- it is implied, not described. It's Skip. Screw Skip.

Birthdays are a thing Peter would like to erase out of existence. Not for everyone, obviously- Peter would feel totally horrible if he erased a little three year-old girl’s princess themed birthday party- but rather just for himself.

If anyone asks, he’ll simply tell them he doesn’t like all the attention, the feeling about a whole day dedicated to him, that it feels inherently selfish to just demand attention because, “Wow, look at me, I was born today! Now bow down, you peasants.”

This is all partially true. As he got older, and his anxiety had decided to really dedicate itself to ruining any chance he has at self-confidence, this viewpoint has become prominent whenever he thinks about August tenth. 

Of course, though, this is only half of it all- not even half, in fact, a miniscule fragment of everything. There’s the Other reason- the reason he doesn’t eat hot fudge sundaes anymore, why he won’t drink red Kool-Aid anymore, why he avoids peanut butter like the plague.

But it’s not as if he can tell anyone why- so in with hating birthdays because they’re attention demanding it is, out with the Other reason that makes him wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.

***

Thursday afternoon, Peter walks out of his high school to be greeted with the sight of Happy’s Audi- of course it’s an Audi, like Tony would have any close friend of his drive anything else- parked in front of the building.

This isn’t inherently weird or anything- Peter’s used to Happy picking him up for lab days after school. Still, though, it’ll always feel a bit strange to be personally escorted upstate to the compound- Happy doesn’t call it personally escorting, he calls it a nuisance.

“Hey Happy!” Peter greets as he slides into the backseat, tossing his backpack onto the floor. “Thanks for picking me up. Again.” Peter adds reluctantly- he can’t help but feel a little guilty that Happy’s taking time out of his day just to pick him up.

As soon as the backpack hits the floor of the car, it lets out a loud, resounding thump that makes Peter wince a little. Yeah, he really has to get this whole super-strength thing in check- it isn’t his fault, though! He doesn’t totally know his own strength yet, it’s limits and capabilities.

“Seriously? What do you keep in there, rocks?” Happy asks, giving him major side-eye.

“Um, no. It’s just a few textbooks and things.” Peter trails off in slight embarrassment. He sincerely hopes he didn’t damage Mr. Stark’s Audi or anything- he doesn’t exactly have the money to pay for it. “So… how was your day?” Peter asks.

“Fine.” Happy responds, failing to elaborate.

This is a total win for Peter. Once upon a time, Happy would’ve just pulled up the divider- now, though? Peter gets answers! One word answers, granted, but still answers nonetheless. 

Happy sighs, and Peter’s now worried that he might’ve somehow annoyed Happy without realizing it, until, “How was yours?”

Peter’s face lights up, and he launches into detail about his school day- acing his Spanish quiz, talking with Ned and MJ, not getting a ton of homework for once. 

Happy doesn’t respond much- occasionally, he’ll make noises of acknowledgement or nod his head ever so slightly- and before Peter knows it, they’re pulling up at the compound, which looks awesome as ever- and besides, now it truly does live up to the name of the Avengers Compound, since the others are back, which is a whole other can of worms-

Still cool, though.

“Bye Happy!” Peter says, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and getting out of the car- it’s probably his third backpack this month, “Hope you have an awesome, uh, rest of your day?” Peter finishes lamely.

“Bye.” Happy mutters, and Peter swears Happy’s smiling as Peter closes the car door shut- progress!

***

Peter doesn’t remember his first birthday, like, at all.

He’s seen pictures of it though.

There’s a picture of his mom and dad holding him, smiling widely- his mother had her hair falling loosely around her shoulders, and his dad had on a blue plaid button-down.

Peter was wearing a pale yellow onesie, head bearing soft, brown curls of hair.

Another picture of this birthday is just of him- he’s sitting in a high chair, in front of a slice of cake- the cake has white frosting with super artificial-looking red and blue candy flowers.

The last picture- the one May loves the most, by the way- is of him sitting on the floor, in front of a wrapped present. Peter doesn’t- and probably never will- know what it was, but the thing that really stands out about the picture is the fact that he’s wearing the present’s bow on his head- the type that you buy at your local convenience store and slap on a gift to make it look more presentable.

Apparently, it wasn’t a huge birthday party or anything. It had just been him and his parents, along with May and Ben.

In a way, this might be Peter’s favorite birthday so far- he has no recollection of it whatsoever, so it’s able to maintain its innocence, untainted and pure.

If only every other birthday could be like that.

***

Tony’s waiting for him down in the lab, blasting some music by AC/DC, per usual.

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, dropping his backpack on the floor by the doorway- no thud this time.

Tony turns around, an easy grin on his face. “Hey, kiddo. You’re pretty early- no traffic, I presume?”

Peter immediately feels sort of weird and anxious- is he too early? Tony never specified, like, a schedule for him to abide to when it comes to lab days, but maybe there was one- like, an unspoken schedule, and now he’s bothering Tony by ignoring this unspoken schedule, and-

“I can, uh, leave? If you want? I don’t want to bother you or anything.” Peter stammers, his voice cracking ever so slightly- thanks, puberty.

Tony rolls his eyes good naturedly. “You’re good, Peter. You’re not bothering me by showing up. What do you think about us working on your suit today?”

Peter grins- partially out of relief that he’s not bothering Tony, partially out of excitement- suit days are always fun. “I think that sounds awesome, Mr. Stark.”

“Excellent. Bring the suit over here- watch out for Dum-E, by the way- for some reason today is a good fire extinguishing day, especially when there’s no fire.” Tony responds, and Peter laughs.

“Dum-E’s just trying its best Mr. Stark.” Peter says as he makes his way over to the lab table Tony’s currently stationed at- he makes sure to give Dum-E and U little pats before he does, and is met with the most adorable, appreciative beeps ever.

“If you consider trying your best fire extinguishing my coffee- which I need to function, I’m sure you know- then, by all means, hats off to you, Dum-E. You’re truly a pinnacle of society.” Tony snarks, and Peter glares at his father-figure- not that he’s told Tony that or anything.

“Dum-E only did that because you drink way too much coffee. Like, enough to kill a man.” Peter retorts, and Tony dramatically spreads his arms out.

“And yet here I am, Underoos. Amazing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I mean, I guess as you get older, stuff like coffee doesn’t really have an effect on you anymore.” Peter says with an innocent tone, although a shit-eating grin stretches across his face.

Tony gasps in mock shock. “Old? Excuse you, Pete, but I’m the pinnacle of youth. Did you know I’m in the running for sexiest man alive this year? Again?” Tony smirks, and Peter groans.

“Whatever, Mr. Stark. I’m voting for Chris Pine.”

“Betrayed by my very own! How could you, Underoos?” Tony ruffles Peter’s hair, Peter laughing and swatting at his hands, all the while feeling happy over the fact that Tony called him his own.

Yeah, lab days are awesome.

***

Peter only remembers his third birthday because it was weird and sad.

It wasn’t a bad birthday or anything, from what he can remember. It was just that it had been the birthday after his parents had died- so, naturally, Ben and May were emotional.

Peter was, too, but in a weird way. His parents were- and still are, really- a far off memory, something distant and unattainable. 

To Ben and May, however, they were still something very recent.

He remembers Ben and May giving him Star Wars action figures- his love of Star Wars had not sprouted from this, though, but from movie nights where they would sit on the couch and watch, well, movies.

He remembers May crying, and Ben trying not to cry as he comforted May- he remembers May saying something along the lines of, “They should be here.”

He remembers them going to his parents' graves and sort of just standing there. It had been cloudy.

His birthdays after that- putting aside The Birthday- tended to be a lot happier.

***

After they’re done in the lab, Tony suggests they order pizza- it’s become something of a tradition, lab work first, and then pizza, usually with pepperoni.

They also tend to watch Netflix while they eat- and that’s what they’re doing right now, sat on the couch watching The Office while eating multiple slices of especially greasy pizza.

Peter never thought that he’d be at this point- being in Tony Stark’s lab, eating pizza with him- it’s been months, and yet it still surprises him.

Another surprising thing is that Tony doesn’t seem to mind any of this- he always seems happy whenever Peter’s around, and Peter enjoys being around Tony, too- of course, he’s not without his anxieties that he’s a nuisance to Tony, but Tony’s always quick to assure him he’s not- besides, these anxieties apply to everyone.

Just as Peter’s reaching for another slice of pizza- his fourth- Tony pauses the episode they’re watching- one of the Christmas party ones.

For a moment, Peter thinks it’s an accident, until the episode stays paused- then he realizes it was intentional.

“Do you want to, um, watch something else?” Peter asks, slightly confused. Suddenly, a drop of grease splatters on his jeans, and he groans- “F.”

Now Tony looks confused. “F?”

“Yeah, F.” Peter nods, and reaches for a napkin. He starts to rub at the new orange stain on his pants, but to no avail.

“Do you want to explain why exactly you’re saying a single letter out loud in response to your little stain problem?” Tony asks, his voice sounding vaguely amused.

“Y’know, like, F. Press F to pay respects?” Peter tilts his head ever so slightly at Tony’s clear confusion. 

“Is this a generation…” Tony trails off.

“Z. Gen Z.” Peter fills in helpfully, and Tony rolls his eyes, although not without a smile.

“Is this a generation Z thing?”

“I’d like to think it’s a universal thing. Something that brings everyone together in times of grief.” Peter says seriously, still rubbing at the stain.

“You- you dropped grease on your shirt- that’s not grief?” Tony rubs his temples.

“Anything can be grief if you press F hard enough.” Peter responds, and Tony groans.

“God, you teenagers and your… F’s. I swear, there isn’t even a point to any of those jokes, or whatever you call them.” Tony laments dramatically, getting up and walking into the kitchen.

“Pressing F is no joke, Mr. Stark!” Peter calls after him, and is met with another overly-dramatic groan in response.

Briefly, Peter can hear water rushing, and then Tony comes back with a wet napkin in hand. “Let me see.” he says, and Peter stretches his leg out onto Tony’s lap, the stain being on his lower pant leg, near his ankle.

As Tony scrubs at the stain- in the back of his mind, Peter feels like this would be a dad thing to do, which only serves to make him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside- he asks, “So. Any plans for this weekend, Pete?”

Peter’s a bit confused- it’s not as if Tony never asks about his life or his plans, but it’s a bit of a weird question to ask when you’re getting a stain out of something. “Um, no, not really. Why?” Maybe Tony wants him to come over this weekend? It’s not unheard of or anything, but he usually comes over every other weekend- this is not one of them. Maybe Pepper’s coming over, or Rhodey- it’s always fun when they’re around.

“I was just wondering when you were planning to tell me that Saturday’s your birthday.” Tony responds casually, and Peter stiffens.

“I, um. How did you, uh, know?” Peter asks, and immediately winces at his totally cool response. He can’t help it, though- has he ever brought up the tenth around Tony? He doesn’t think so, but maybe it slipped his mind or something. 

Either way, he’s filled with dread at whatever Tony’s going to say next.

Tony snorts. “It wasn’t exactly hard to find out, kid. If you must know, though, it’s pretty obvious. Your ID, for one, is an example.” Tony gestures to Peter’s ID, which is hanging around his neck, and Peter groans. He’s registered as an intern, but only as a cover- lab days don’t exactly count as interning, or whatever- and since being an “intern” means he has to have an ID, here he is with one, his birthday on display below his picture.

He really should have used white-out on it or something.

“Um, I’m sorry?” Peter mumbles, and Tony releases his leg, tossing the wet napkin aside- the stain is completely gone, thanks to Tony Stark magic or something.

Tony looks at Peter, expression gentle. “I’m not upset or anything, Pete. I was just wondering why you didn’t tell me it was your birthday this weekend. Most people don’t usually forget the big one-six.”

Peter averts his gaze, and opts to stare at his sneakers instead- courtesy of Tony, who had upon seeing Peter’s old worn-out ones, quite literally bought him an entire selection of shoes and said it wasn’t a big deal. In the back of his mind, a scene is playing out- sandwiches and supposed powdered sugar and slowness- and he immediately feels his heart beating faster and faster.

He’s tempted to just outright tell Tony the reason he isn’t big on birthdays, but that would change everything. Yeah, no, not an option. To calm himself down, he starts to fiddle with the hem of his sweatshirt.

“I just don’t usually do anything for my birthday. It’s not a big deal or anything.” Peter mumbles- smiles and lit candles and a glass pitcher.

“So you and your Aunt don’t have any plans?” Tony raises an eyebrow, and Peter can already tell what’s coming next- Tony’s infamous for the birthday parties he throws for himself- he remembers being twelve and hearing someone talking about it on TV, a talk show- there had been ice sculptures and dancing and literally everything anyone could ever ask for in a birthday.

Besides Peter.

“No,” he responds, his mouth suddenly very dry.

“And you don’t suppose your hot Aunt would let me borrow you for a few hours on Saturday, then?” Tony asks carefully, and Peter suddenly feels the urge to cry, to curl up into a tiny ball and not do a thing, because really, he’s had such a good track record of not doing anything That Day, and now, if he says no, Tony will know something is up- he’s usually always excited to spend time with the man he’s come to see as a father. 

“I don’t know. Maybe. I guess.” Is all Peter can say, because really, what else is there to say?

His nails dig into his palms.

It hurts.

“You guess?” Tony questions. “Look, Pete, I’m not going to be offended if you don’t want to, if something is up-”

“I do!” Peter blurts out, which could not be further from the truth. The thing is, though, Tony himself is getting close to the truth. Too close. And Peter can’t stand the thought of Tony knowing, staring at him with pity, never being able to think about him in the same light.

There’s a reason why only him and May know.

Tony looks skeptical, but his tone is patient, caring. “Peter. You don’t have to lie to me. If you have plans, I understand- it’s just an offer, kid, not a big deal.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just not… used to doing much on my birthday, is all.” Peter says hastily- TV flickering at night, a Jello-like feeling, a once-beloved, now ostracized nickname.

He still doesn’t meet Tony’s eyes.

“Alright.” Tony says slowly. “So, you won’t mind if I stop by your apartment and pick you up at, say, six? Six-thirty?”

There’s a silence, and then, “Yeah. That’s, uh, fine.”

“Then it’s settled, Underoos. It’ll be great. Perfect another for ‘My Super Sweet 16’, if that shows even still running.” Tony lightly pats Peter on the back, and Peter can’t even bring himself to laugh.

It’s not Mr. Stark that he’s afraid of. Tony would never do anything to hurt him.

It’s the memories.

As Tony presses play on the remote, and the episode resumes, Peter feels a faint wetness in his hands.

His palms are bleeding.

Peter still doesn’t stop pressing his nails into them.

***

For Peter’s fifth birthday, Ben and May threw him a mini-party.

At the time, he didn’t have any friends to invite over, so it was just them.

May made his favorite food at the time, which didn’t require any actual preparation- Spaghetti-O’s.

As a present, they gave Peter a toy lightsaber- he still has it. It’s blue.

Ben took the day off, and, after they had cake, they settled on the couch and watched Star Wars movies.

As far as birthdays go, if it wasn’t so tainted, it was a pretty good one.

***

On Friday, Peter tells May about Tony picking him up on Saturday.

May, understandably, is confused. 

On a typical That Day of the year, the two of them will treat the day as if nothing’s special about it- there always is a strain, though, and oftentimes Peter will end up staying in his bed for the majority of it, or taking showers that exceeded the recommended hour, scrubbing at his skin so it becomes pink and raw, trying to feel clean.

He knows May feels guilty about not doing anything for That Day- but she never says anything, only giving him a sad look he can’t stand, and speaking softly to him.

It’s sort of an unspoken agreement at his point.

Peter knows it’s unusual, but he’s always happy whenever there’s school on That Day. It’s a welcome distraction.

Ned, of course, is always a factor in That Day. When he found out the tenth was Peter’s birthday, in usual Ned fashion, he kept questioning Peter as to why he refused to do anything for it.

Peter knows Ned means well. So, each year, he lies to him, with the usual selfish-attention demanding spiel.

The funny thing about it, though, is that about a week after That Day, May and Ned will usually give him something, on separate occasions. May will claim it’s because she got a pay raise at work- not true- and Ned will claim it’s something old of his- not true.

He knows it’s because they feel bad about not being able to get him anything. He knows it’s because Ned wants to be a good friend, that May can’t stand the thought of not giving her nephew a birthday present, especially because she knows about what happened on That Day.

“Are you sure about this?” May asks Peter. “I know Tony would never do anything to hurt you, but it’s not like you to want to do much on the tenth.” 

There’s clear confusion in her voice, on her face, everywhere. 

Peter can’t help but lie again. 

“I just feel like I should get out of the house, I guess. Spend time with Mr. Stark and all.” he tries to shrug nonchalantly, but the truth is that they both know this is a big deal. This is anything but small.

That Day will forever be tainted.

“You don’t have to go out, you know? Don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to, Peter.” May says gently, cupping his face in her hands.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut, as if that’s a way to block out the memories. 

On any other day, he’d be ecstatic to go and do something with Tony. And yet, isn’t he being babyish about it? It’s just one day out of a million. Only a few hours, even.

“I’ll be fine, May. Promise.” Peter tries to muster up a smile- he doesn’t know if it works- and May just sighs.

“Call me if you want to leave at anytime, okay?” 

Peter just nods. 

It’s only a few hours. It’s a necessary sacrifice- if Tony knew about all of It, Peter would forever be tainted in his eyes, forever something to pity.

Peter doesn’t think he can stand another sad look.

***

On Saturday, Peter wakes up, and, as usual, is filled with anxiety.

Only this time, it’s for good reason.

Immediately, the thought comes to him- what if Tony tries to throw him a huge party? He did say sweet sixteen level, right? Then again, it’s hard to even think of what Tony might do- he has tons of money, which means more possibilities.

If it’s a huge party, Peter thinks he’ll vomit.

On that note, he’s sixteen today.

Peter honestly does wish he could be excited about it.

Already, memories plague him. Confusion, paper plates, a way too bright light.

Thankfully, at that moment, Peter’s phone goes off- it’s just an Instagram notification, nothing special.

Still, it’s yet another welcome distraction, and Peter takes it, staying on his phone until it dies.

After that, all he can do is take a long, long shower, and wait for Mr. Stark to arrive.

***

At six-thirty sharp, Peter gets a text from Tony.

Tony: I’m outside the building, Pete.

Peter: ok

Peter says goodbye to May, who looks conflicted, concerned, even- but isn’t she always, especially when it comes to Today?

She gives him an extra long hug, which Peter appreciates- that alone is a gift.

As Peter bounds down the stairs of the apartment building, he briefly wonders if he should have dressed up. He’s wearing one of his usual sweatshirts, nothing fancy- but if Tony’s throwing him a party, his outfit probably doesn’t make the cut.

Then again, if Tony really is throwing him a party, Peter’s going to throw himself out a window.

Peter likes to think that he’s past the crying point when it comes to What Happened. Really, there’s an endless amount of crying to be done, and he’s done it- but now, he just feels embarrassed. Ashamed. Hideous, in a way.

It’s mortifying, what happened. Mortifyingly terrifying, and it’s a part of him forever. Peter will never be able to separate himself from this- he is property, a belonging. It’s as if one day someone decided to dump a bucket of red paint on him, and now there’s no way to wash it off- he can pretend it didn’t happen all he wants, but there are still infinite reminders of it- the cold, oozing feeling of the paint on his skin, the smell of it, the way his clothes are forever clinging to his body, a bright red color.

Peter wraps his arms around himself, a sort of hug. He would trade anything to just have that day erased, gone, nonexistent. He knows that’ll never happen, though- and it’s still fresh, really. The confusion, the horror, the betrayal, the shame and embarrassment and feeling of knowing that his own body wasn’t really his anymore, and never would be.

Peter’s finally at the lobby. He doesn’t cry anymore- how could he? What tears are left to cry? It happened, and now it’s something he has to live with- a weight tied around his ankle, accompanying him at all times. He can’t forget it, can’t simply leave it behind, only try to trudge along as it does it’s best to drag him down further.

Peter steps out of his apartment building and into Tony’s Audi, which is parked outside, as promised.

As soon as Peter steps in, Tony says the mandatory, “Happy birthday, kid. So, tell me- how does it feel to be officially sixteen? I mean, I know I don’t look a day over it, but you only get to be sixteen for a year, so.”

“I don’t know. It feels the same, I guess.” Peter mumbles, strapping himself into the passenger's seat.

“Oh, it’s anything but, Underoos. Sixteen is the exact age you want to be. Not an adult, no responsibility-”

“I have school. And Spidey.” Peter reminds him. As he does this, he clenches his fist- it’s solid, grounding. He’s not There, he’s here.

And he can’t let Tony know what’s wrong.

“That’s true. Very true. Although one of those things isn’t quite like the other, kid. You have time to go on patrol today?” Tony asks.

Peter nods, and launches into lies about his supposed patrolling today. In reality, he hadn’t gone- he’d been too wracked with anxiety about the events that were to take place today to even think about going. 

Thankfully, Tony doesn’t check that this is true, and the two sit in what would normally be considered a comfortable silence, except Peter is nervously tapping his fingers on the side of his seat the whole time.

The sun is already starting to go down, he sees. And looking out the window is somewhat calming- people just walking around, going about their day. They all seem so normal- a pregnant woman in a lime-green tank top, a middle-aged man talking on the phone, a grandma carrying plastic grocery bags.

Peter wonders about their lives, if they’re as normal as they seem. They all look regular enough, and yet you can never really know, can you? Peter’s used to feeling like there’s a bright, red target painted on his back, something that separates, makes him discernible from others, makes him feel weird and embarrassed at all times- because he is different. That Day has permanently separated him from people like Ned, even people like Flash- he’s forever carrying around this shame and embarrassment in his arms like a baby, making sure it isn’t too loud, too obvious for people to see- it’s his burden, and he’ll never be able to see it off.

After a moment or two of these thoughts, Tony speaks up. “You okay, Underoos? You’d usually be talking my ear off by now.”

“I’m just wondering where we’re going, I guess.” Peter lies- well, partially. Curiosity still has a hold of him.

“Well, you’re about to find out, since we are-” Tony checks his watch, “-about a minute away from our destination. Excited?”

All Peter can do is force a smile. “Uh, yeah. Totally.”

Thankfully, Tony doesn’t seem to notice the flimsiness of his words, and they pull up at a movie theater. 

Of course, it isn’t any ordinary movie theater- it’s one of those rich people ones. It’s super fancy and classy looking- the type you can dine in and everything.

“Are we watching a movie?” Peter asks, and for the first time today, he feels hopeful, in a way. Watching a movie doesn’t sound so bad- in fact, it sounds pretty great. Movies are distracting, and Tony always has funny commentary about whatever’s happening on screen.

“In a way,” Tony smirks, and gets out of the car. Peter does as well- what does in a way mean? Are they going to sneak in or something- not that that makes much sense, considering the fact that Tony has so much money he could literally buy out the entire movie theater if he wanted to.

***

“So, I bought out the movie theater.” Tony says as soon as they’re inside. He’s grinning, and for good reason- Peter’s totally starstruck, because, okay, firstly, the movie theater is even fancier on the inside than on the outside! There’s a literal chandelier in the lobby, and everything is all glass and stuff- woah.

“You- you bought this out? No way,” Peter stares up at his father-figure in utter disbelief. “That must’ve been, like, a million dollars-”

Tony’s quick to cut him off. “Yeah- I’m a billionaire, Pete. Money isn’t exactly an issue. Besides, it’s your birthday, and I only bought it out for today, anyway- you don’t need to worry about anything, kid.”

Slowly, Peter starts to grin. “Wow, okay. Uh, thank you so much, Mr. Stark, really- this is totally awesome.”

“I told you it’d be.” Tony smirks. “So. We have options here, Underoos. We can play any movie you want- in theaters or out. Any particular movie that you’re itching to watch?”

Peter stops to think for a moment. There are so many options! Literally infinite options. 

So, of course he goes with Star Wars. 

Upon hearing this, Tony rolls his eyes affectionately. “Yeah, I thought so. Good thing I got them to queue all the Star Wars movies up beforehand- haven’t you watched them about- let’s see- a million times before this, kid?”

“A million and one, Mr. Stark.” Peter responds happily, and as they walk towards one of the theater rooms, Peter can’t help but notice that there’s literally no one here- besides a few staff members eyeing them nervously, the theater is totally empty.

“There’s, like, no one here.” Peter comments, glancing at a few movie posters as they walk along.

“Well, I did buy the place out. If you want, I can gather a few pedestrians, make it feel more natural.” Tony teases.

“Yeah, that’d-” Peter stops in his tracks, a big shit-eating grin splitting his face. “Hey, Mr. Stark- you want to watch this?” Peter asks, gesturing towards one of the movie posters adorning the walls.

Tony looks confused for a second, until he reads the film’s title. “Seriously? I know it’s your birthday and all, but I have limits- specifically, limits that don’t involve seeing a live action rendition of a football-headed little girl and her talking monkey.”

Peter gasps in mock shock. “Dora does not have a football head! Besides, I heard people saying that, ‘Dora and the Lost City of Gold’ is Oscar-worthy, Mr. Stark. It’s the next big hit.” Peter says, trying his best to hold in his laughter.

“I’m sure they are. By the way, I can already tell what you’re thinking, and the answer is no. Nuh-uh. Absolutely not.”

Peter scoffs. “What am I thinking, then, Mr. Stark?”

“You want to take a selfie or whatever you call it in front of the Dora poster. Not happening.” Tony responds, and Peter’s sort of shocked.

“Are you psychic?” he asks, eyes widening. “How did you-”

“I see you pulling up the camera app on your phone. You also have that mischievous Peter Parker look in your eyes- don’t think I can’t recognize your little scheming look when I see it.” Tony snorts, and Peter pouts.

“Please, Mr. Stark? Please?” Peter begs, and Tony just crosses his arms, unimpressed.

Time to pull out the big guns. 

“Please please please please plEASE PLEASE PLEASE-”

“Alright, fine! We’ll take the picture, Pete- but only so you stop screaming. I don’t think I could handle another minute of that.” Tony groans, but he’s smiling- and so is Peter.

In the end, Tony insists Peter sends the pictures to him- Peter doesn’t comment on the fact that he sees Tony make it his new wallpaper.

Once they actually get inside the movie screening room, Peter’s pleasantly surprised to find that the chairs are super fancy- plush covering, not to mention the fact that he’s able to make it extend like a recliner.

The dining menu is also super fancy as well- there are literally so many options that Peter’s overwhelmed, until Tony tells him to save room for later.

So, naturally, Peter ends up ordering a salted caramel milkshake and fries, two very filling things. Tony himself gets a cheeseburger- Peter can’t help but roll his eyes at that.

Everything is fine until the movie theater darkens, just as the first Star Wars movie starts to play- at Peter’s insistence, they actually watched the previews before the movie started, to which Tony groaned at, but Peter insisted it was part of the movie theater experience, fancy or not.

When everything darkens, Peter feels a sort of panic rising inside of him. It’s not even for any good reason, but he’d been so distracted by the fact that he got to have an entire theater to himself that Today, what Today was, had momentarily slipped his mind.

Why can’t this leave him? His breath hitches, and he grips the armrests on either side of him.

And then the title card starts playing, and while this by no means erases this panic that he’s been accumulating, it somewhat eases him. This is familiar, something he’s seen many times before- there are no twists and turns that can surprise him, nothing he isn’t used to. It’s perfectly routine, scenes set up to happen in a certain timeframe, with certain events and people- nothing bad. Nothing bad can happen.

Still, though, for the first half of the movie, Peter feels like he’s underwater, as he repeats this to himself in his head. And then he glances at Tony- and Tony’s watching the movie attentively. 

Peter’s made him watch it before, once- and yet here he is, paying attention, not sleeping or on his phone or anything.

For some reason, this comforts him- and slowly but surely, Peter is able to push his panic to the back of his mind- for now- and watch the movie. It’s actually pretty awesome being able to watch it in theaters, something he never got to do before. And it’s even more fun with Tony, who’s constantly stealing his fries- not that Peter minds, because he takes a bite of Tony’s burger without him noticing.

All in all, it isn’t bad. It isn’t bad at all. It’s fun, even- which is shocking, considering what Today is, but as long as he doesn’t think about What Happened Today, he’s fine. 

Plus, his milkshake really rocks.

***

“-and Han Solo is just, like, so awesome, and he’s literally so badass when he helps rescue Leia!” Peter enthuses excitedly, making wild hand gestures. 

It’s nighttime by now, as they walk out of theater and into the empty parking lot, save for Tony’s Audi. After watching A New Hope, they’d watched The Empire Strikes Back, to which at the end Tony promptly said they had to get going.

“He is pretty badass, huh? For a guy that hangs out with a massive pile of fur, I mean.” Tony teases- he’s smiling, though, and it seems like he genuinely enjoyed watching the movies.

“They have a bond, Mr. Stark! A super powerful bond.” Peter insists.

Tony’s staring at him- his look isn’t one of annoyance, like Peter often sees whenever he rants about something he likes to someone that isn’t Ned or May- it’s one of pride. He’s smiling softly, and Peter’s genuinely happy- combined with the excitement he always feels whenever he watches anything Star Wars related, and the prospect of getting to hang out with Tony, he’s in a pretty good mood.

Tony reaches over, and lightly pulls Peter into a sort of half-hug, arm wrapped around his shoulder, Peter lightly pressed against Tony’s side- it’s not unlike the half-hug Tony was giving him right before he offered him a spot on the Avengers.

“Yeah- I guess they do have a pretty great bond, huh?”

Peter beams.

***

“Um, Mr. Stark? I don’t, uh, think my apartment is this way.” Peter says, once they’re in the car. They’ve been driving for a few minutes, and Peter doesn’t know that much about directions or anything, but he’s pretty sure that Tony’s made a few wrong turns here and there.

“We’re not going there, kid- we’ve got one last stop before your sweet sixteen is over.” Tony looks over at him with a broad smile.

“Oh. Uh, okay. Should I text May?” Peter asks, but his throat suddenly feels really dry.

He knows Tony would never do anything to hurt him- it’s unfathomable, really. Yet, as always, unease creeps up on Peter- like it does whenever something unexpected happens, like Flash throwing something at him, or Decathlon practice being extended an extra hour.

He supposes he’ll never stop feeling uneasy.

“You can if you want to, but she already knows- don’t try and get anything out of her, by the way. It’s a surprise.” Tony responds, and Peter just nods.

May knows what’s going to happen, so it’s not a big deal, right?

“Yeah, okay. Uh, cool.”

Afterwards, he can only stare at the passing light of streetlamps, illuminating the darkness.

***

For Peter’s seventh birthday- the last one before That Day- he, May, and Ben went to the local science museum.

It was super cool at the time- there were tons of cool exhibits, like a huge heart model that you could actually walk through, a tornado simulator, a life-size interactive model of Newton’s Cradle.

He remembers this birthday the clearest, he thinks, because it was his last pure one, in a way- he can even remember the little details, like how he accidentally bumped into a girl with twin braids wearing a bright pink parka, even though it was August, or the type of shirt Ben was wearing- a crisp, white button down, with a pen in the shirt pocket. 

When they got home, though, Ben and May had brought out a cake. It had been late at night- almost eleven-thirty- but they let Peter eat sugar, because you only turn seven once.

The cake had been chocolate flavored, with artificial looking frosting flowers- two of them were bright pink, three of them a dark, neon blue.

They’d stuck seven candles to the top of the cake, lit by Ben’s plastic red lighter, the one he always carried around- for good luck, he said.

The candles were spindly and long, dripping dregs of wax into the cake, as Peter stared at them, the candlelight illuminating his face as Ben and May sang Happy Birthday to him.

Really, Peter doesn’t know where the whole ‘wish on a candle’ thing came from. It’s not that he minds it or anything- it’s just sort of mysterious, getting a wish just because you blow out some candles. Who decides that sort of thing?

Back then, though, Peter adored the idea of it- it always made sense to him. It was his birthday, duh- of course he could get a wish!

That year, Peter wished for something simple. A friend. 

It wasn’t like being the shy, nerdy kid in your first grade class full of kids who weren’t afraid to play with other kids made you the most popular person in school or anything.

When Peter told his aunt and uncle what he’d wished for, they both shared a look- it was a sort of sad one, which, in turn, made Peter sort of sad.

After they ate cake, as they were tucking him into bed, Ben told him he was a good kid. A great kid. One that would change the world, as long as he continued to always try to do good, do what was right.

May told him that he made them proud, so proud, that they could not have wished for a better nephew.

They both gave him a kiss on the forehead, and turned off his Iron Man themed lamp.

Peter fell asleep, and dreamt of a stranger, someone he did not know, smiling at him.

***

Peter’s simultaneously filled with relief and confusion when they pull up at the compound.

“Are we going to, uh… have a lab day? Not that I don’t like them or anything! I’m just sort of confused because it’s night, and they are lab DAYS, but if you want to have a lab day but at night- I guess it’d be called a lab night?- it’s cool, I’m up for it, Mr. Stark-”

Tony snorts. “Yeah, right. Like I’d make a spider-baby handle very dangerous and sharp materials when it should be his bedtime.”

“I don’t have a bedtime,” Peter mumbles as they walk into the compound, which is suspiciously noise-free.

Peter fiddles with a loose string from his sweatshirt as they enter the elevator. His breathing is getting sort of funny again.

Right before they reach the living room floor, Tony stops abruptly. “Just to, uh, clarify, kid,” he begins, looking sort of… anxious? Bothered? “They insisted on coming. I know you’re not a big fan of them, but they insisted it’d be bad manners not to come. If you want, I can get them to leave, no problem.”

Peter’s just confused.

Them? Who are them- uh, they? It sounds like Tony expects him to know who they are, so Peter just decides to go along with it. Whoever they are, it can’t be that bad, right?

“Um, it’s fine, I guess?” Peter says hesitantly, and Tony nods.

“Let me know if you want them to leave at any time.” he says, and the elevator doors part to reveal-

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PETER!” A chorus of voices yell.

Okay. Wow. It’s a lot to take in. In front of him is the entirety of the Avengers- save for Bruce Banner and Thor, obviously- along with Pepper and Happy. The first thing that comes to Peter is that now he knows who ‘they’ are- the Avengers- he presumes that Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey aren’t included in the ‘they’ category, though, since he likes them just fine.

There’s red and blue crepe paper hanging from the ceiling, and a large, sparkly pink banner that reads, “HAPPY SWEET SIXTEEN!”

Peter knows the banner is Tony’s doing.

Everyone is wearing dorky party hats, even Natasha- it’s sort of funny to think about, Black Widow wearing a literal bright pink cone on her head. 

Pepper and Rhodey look happy, Rhodey doing some variation of jazz hands. Happy looks like he’s suppressing a smile- even he’s wearing a party hat, which much have been an impossible feat.

As for the Avengers- that aren’t Rhodey- Steve looks sort of apprehensive, although he’s still smiling like everyone else. Clint has a noisemaker in his mouth, and he’s viciously blowing on it. Sam is throwing confetti in the air- a piece of it lands on Peter’s shoulder, and he notices that it’s Spidey-themed. Natasha is smiling kindly at him and clapping, Wanda has a mixture of shyness and hesitant joy on her face as she holds hands with Vision, who looks, in comparison, perfectly content.

Yeah, it’s a lot.

“Um, wow. Thank you!” Peter stammers, still taking it all in- Tony has a hand on his shoulder, grounding him, and Peter is forever thankful. 

“It’s no problem, Peter- it’s your birthday! You’re sixteen!” Pepper grins, and wraps him up in a hug. Rhodey playfully shoves his shoulder, and Happy gives him a light pat on the back- which is the most affectionate Happy’s ever been to him, so he’ll take it.

“Tony wanted to go all out on the decorations- he was going to have, like, twice as many balloons then there are right now. It would’ve been like a ball pit of them.” Rhodey teases, and Peter can’t help but smile, even if he’s sort of nervous.

“And I regret to inform you, Pete, that idea was vetoed by a certain someone, cough cough, Pepper.” Tony gestures to his fiance, who’s rolling her eyes.

“Oh, please. We all know you would’ve whined about having to clean it up the next morning.” Pepper retorts, and Tony wraps his arm around her waist, kissing her cheek.

“He really would have.” Happy grumbles, and then, upon seeing Peter staring at him, says, “What? Is there something in my teeth, or…?”

“I just can’t believe you’re wearing a party hat.” Peter finally says, and then- to ease the sort of tension that’s in the room, what with the others there and all- pulls out his phone and takes a picture of Happy.

“Hey! I swear, kid, you’d better delete that-” 

After that, the atmosphere eases up. There’s music playing, and everyone’s happily talking. 

While Peter doesn’t really approve of what the others did to Tony- abandoning him, not to mention Siberia and all- he does make an effort to talk to them. They’re trying to be nice, and really, who’s Peter to dispute that? For the most part, it’s pleasant talking to them- Natasha tells him a few secrets about the other Avengers- harmless ones, but still funny enough to be blackmail. Wanda seems a bit hesitant around him, but she’s perfectly polite- Vision seems to sort of ease her up. Clint and Sam seem perfectly at ease- Clint keeps blowing the noisemakers, though, to which Sam just slapped it out of his mouth- Sam in particular seems extra curious on his spider-oriented abilities,which makes sense considering the airport battle.

As for Steve? It’s a bit more awkward talking to him, but they both make an effort. Steve tells him something about one of his birthday parties growing up, and Peter tells him that one of his math problems for homework revolves around him and his shield.

For the most part, though, Peter talks to Tony, Rhodey, Happy, and Pepper- and when he does, that’s when he truly starts to ease up. Pepper’s insistent on taking pictures of him, Rhodey tells him about one of Tony’s birthday parties, to which they apparently fought in suits at- which sounds totally awesome, by the way!- and Happy actually makes conversation with him, talking about Downtown Abbey.

All in all, Peter’s grateful- he’s just glad, really, that it’s not a super huge party. Not to mention the fact that it’s clear that Tony went all out, but to an extent- according to Pepper, he’s thrown some crazy parties over the years- which means that Tony had been trying to make Today special, but in a way that Peter would feel comfortable- and it worked.

He even ends up playing Mario Kart with Tony, Rhodey, and a few of the others- and it’s fun. He laughs, and he feels content, and it’s strange but new- maybe this is a fresh start, as far as birthdays go. Maybe he doesn’t have to spend every birthday locked up in his room or at school, trying not to break down- maybe, just maybe, he can have fun.

After Tony loses yet another round of Mario Kart, he insists that they all open presents.

“Presents? You guys didn’t have to, uh, get me anything. This party’s already been great enough.” Peter mutters, feeling sort of embarrassed- and yet, at the same time, it’s totally cool to think about the Avengers shopping for a present for him.

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” Natasha raises an eyebrow, a slight smirk on her face.

“I can confirm that it is.” Tony calls from another room, presumably getting the presents.

“We all wanted to get you something. You’re only sixteen once.” Steve nods in agreement. 

“I mean, if you’re not counting being sixteen months old.” Clint snorts, taking the noisemaker out of his mouth.

“Yeah, man, I really don’t think that counts. Like, at all.” Sam shakes his head, and just then, Tony walks back in with an armful of presents.

“Open them up, kiddo.”

For a moment, Peter stares at them in a mixture of surprise and slight awe, before nodding hesitantly and picking up one of the parcels, which is wrapped in light blue wrapping paper, a bow that's a darker shade of blue neatly placed on top.

It ends up being a limited edition Star Wars Lego set, from Pepper- Peter’s totally hyped over it, and thanks Pepper one too many times.

Happy gets him something called a beeper, which he says Peter can use for emergencies to contact him, Rhodey gets him, like, five science pun t-shirts, and one of a very weird looking cartoon Iron Man that Peter loves, and Tony hates. Natasha gets him a book that helps to learn Russian- and, Peter presumes the next one is a joke- a book on spiders. Sam gets him a giftcard to Starbucks and an Amazon giftcard, and Clint gets him a Spider-Man plush. From Wanda, he gets a science experiment kit, from Vision, a book on coding- Tony tells him he better not use it to hack into his suit again. Steve gets him a weight-training set.

“Wow, this is all- wow. Thank you guys so much. Really.” Peter says, and he really does mean it. It seems like they all put thought into their gifts, and Peter plans on using all of them.

“So you’re not planning on getting my gift, then?” Tony smirks, and Peter’s eyes widen.

“I thought- you already bought out the theater, and-”

Just as Tony’s about to say something- presumably about it not being a big deal- Clint enters the room with a tub of ice cream.

In the back of his head, he wonders when Clint even left the room- although he’s a spy, so it probably wouldn’t be that hard for him to slip in and out unnoticed. 

That’s not Peter’s main focus right now, though. It’s the actual ice cream. Supposed white powder, hot fudge, a cherry-

“Anyone want some?” Clint asks, holding the tub up for everyone to see.

“I’ll take a scoop. Vis, do you want any?” Wanda asks Vision, who’s sitting next to her on the floor. 

“Yes, I would.” Vision responds, and after that, Peter’s underwater again- he’s drowning, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. 

Someone’s saying something to him, but he can’t hear it- murmuring of the TV, white bread, a humming fridge.

Yeah, he’s out.

“I think May’s calling.” Peter mumbles, and quickly gets up. He walks out of the room, and when he’s finally out, he runs down the hallway- he doesn’t know where he’s trying to go, but he has to leave, get somewhere without a reminder.

The bathroom is the perfect place for that.

Peter locks himself in there, and then sits on the toilet, lid closed. At first, all he feels is his heart pounding, and his lungs desperately trying to get some air. He holds his head in his hands, and doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels, once again, wetness on his palms.

Yep, there they are. The tears. They haven’t come for a while, but apparently they timed it so they could completely ruin Today- not that it wasn’t already ruined, by virtue of being Today.

Everything had been going fine. He had been having fun. He saw two Star Wars movies with Mr. Stark, he had a party with the Avengers. It should have been, should be, one of the greatest days of his life.

But, really, wasn’t it destined to end up like this anyway? Isn’t every day of his life destined to end up like this, provided he find a memory nestled away in some crack, crevice, hidey-hole?

The shame and embarrassment is back again- did it ever even leave? Not over totally freaking out in front of everyone- he can deal with that later. It’s over What Happened, and honestly, Peter is so tired of thinking about it. It’s like his brain hates him, like every thought ends with What Happened instead of a period. What Happened is punctuation enough.

On normalish days, it’s not this bad. But What Happened just had to happen Today. On a day where it’s natural for people to want to be around him, celebrate, and be normal.

It’s draining. It’s shameful. It’s the worst. Peter doesn’t belong to Peter, Peter belongs to Him. Even gone, He still reigns prominent, along with all the emotions He brought along when He did What He Did.

He doesn’t know how he’ll face anyone ever again. Not just Mr. Stark, or Pepper, or anyone at the party, really. Anyone as in anyone, as in literally any person at all. If he starts to suffocate and panic over things as small as dark movie theaters or tubs of ice cream, can he ever truly function in society? For the most part, no one at school or anything seems to suspect- but what’s going to happen when someone brings in a peanut butter sandwich for lunch? What’s going to happen when they bring up Einstein in science class?

Yeah, no. If Peter could have a wish, he’d ask for all of those things, What Happened, to just disappear. For him to just really and truly be normal, to not have to have days where he’s alright, perfectly functional, only to be ruined by days where he breaks down over the smallest things, that are normal to anyone else but him.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. Peter already knows it’s Tony.

“Kid? Are you- are you alright? Can I come in?” Tony asks, and Peter just sniffles in response.

“Okay.”

At this, Tony carefully enters the bathroom. Peter looks up at him, and he can clearly see Tony’s face go from confused to super concerned, upon seeing Peter’s tear streaked face.

“I- Peter, what happened?” Tony asks, kneeling gently in front of Peter. Peter just buries his head in his hands again. This is the worst. The absolute worst. He never wanted Tony to see him like this- now Tony probably thinks he’s super weird and sensitive, which is probably true, too.

“ M’sorry,” Peter mumbles. “I should go. I should go.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Peter. Can you please tell me what’s wrong, though? Are you hurt? Do you feel sick?” Tony’s tone is gentle, which prompts Peter to burst into tears again.

“I don’t know- I’m sorry, I’m really sorry about this, this is so stupid-”

“Hey.” Tony says sternly, and gently takes Peter’s hands off of his face. “Whatever you’re upset about- it’s not stupid. You don’t have to apologize for it, either- in fact, you don’t even have to tell me what’s wrong, if you don’t want to. I won’t force you.”

Peter takes a deep, shuddering breath, and closes his eyes. They’re both silent, and when Peter opens his eyes, Tony’s still there, waiting patiently. His expression is one of concern, yes, but it’s caring as well.

And Peter can’t help but feel safe when he sees it. Like nothing bad can happen, nothing dark and evil and scary can hurt him, as long as Tony’s there.

“I- there’s a reason I don’t celebrate my birthday.” Peter mumbles, still not meeting Tony’s eyes- if he’s going to tell him, he doesn’t think he can handle seeing the pitiful expression that will no doubt grace Tony’s face.

“Shit,” Tony mutters, “Was it because of the party? I can tell everyone to leave right now-”

“No! It wasn’t because of the party. I liked the party.” Peter interrupts. “It doesn’t have anything to do with what we did today. I had a really great time today. It was because- because of something that happened before today. Before I even knew you- before I was even Spider-Man.”

***

On Peter’s eighth birthday, Ben and May made plans.

This wasn’t unprompted, of course. They would have never dreamed of making plans on their nephews birthday.

This was actually all due to Peter’s insistence, so he could see his babysitter, his friend, his best friend, at the time.

Skip Westcott.

Skip was a senior in high school. He played for the football team, had white-blonde hair, and was well-liked by both Ben and May.

He never treated Peter condescendingly, like most older people did whenever they talked to him. He treated Peter as an equal, like a friend. And Skip, on multiple occasions, unprompted, talked about how much he enjoyed Peter’s company, and the feeling was mutual.

Skip was fun to be around! They did cool science experiments together, watched TV, all sorts of fun games and things.

So, of course, how could Ben and May say no when Peter explicitly asked them to make plans on his birthday so he could go to Skip’s house?

They weren’t hurt by how Peter wanted to spend his birthday- they seemed to understand the joy a young kid would feel when a cool, older kid treats them as a friend.

So, they made plans- to go see a movie or something- and dropped Peter off at Skip’s apartment.

Skip lived alone- he moved out of his parents' house, for some reason unbeknownst to Peter.

When they dropped him off that day, Ben and May told Skip how much they appreciated his being friends with Peter. How it had raised Peter’s self confidence.

Skip assured them that it was no big deal, that he liked having Peter around.

After they left, Skip suggested they make Peter a birthday dinner, composed of solely snack foods, to which Peter agreed. 

So, Skip made them peanut butter sandwiches, and put them on paper plates. He made Peter a pitcher of cherry-flavored Kool-Aid, his favorite- Peter was happy to see Skip remembered. He even went the extra length and made them chocolate-chip cookies, which were slightly burnt, but still good.

After all that, Skip ended up insisting on making Peter a birthday sundae. A scoop of vanilla ice cream, drizzled with hot fudge sauce, whipped cream, sprinkles, and a single cherry on top.

Even after all that, Skip said he still had one more ingredient to add. It was some sort of white powder- Skip said it was powdered sugar, which Peter thought was silly- that’s meant for French toast, not ice cream!

The weird thing was, though, that Skip only added a little bit of the powdered sugar, even though he was the one who very strongly insisted on having it be a topping. When Peter asked why- he’ll never forget what Skip said next, because it should have been a sign to run, and he was so stupid and young that he didn’t recognize it- “It’ll be sweet enough on it’s own, Einstien.”

He stuck a single candle on top of the sundae, smushed next to the cherry. Peter blew it out- he didn’t wish for anything, because he had already gotten his wish- a friend.

He should have wished for an escape, something, anything, to ensure that What Happened didn’t happen.

He ate the whole sundae.

After that, they watched TV. Yet, everything started to feel weird. The hanging lamp above them was way too bright, his limbs felt like Jello- when he tried to tell Skip, his words came out all slurred and funny, like his tongue was weighed down.

Skip smiled at him.

Peter doesn’t prefer to think about what happened next.

The year after that, when it was almost time for his ninth birthday, when May and Ben started talking to him about it- what did he want to do?- Peter broke down in tears.

Skip went to jail. 

Peter never had another birthday again.

***

After Peter tells Tony all this, he can’t even meet his eyes. The Expression is probably there- what will pity do? Pity can’t change a thing, can’t erase or fix.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. Please- please don’t think of me differently. I know that- I-” Peter stammers, before giving up on trying to say anything entirely, because what else could be said? His story has been told.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Peter. None of that- none of that was your fault.” Tony says firmly, and finally, Peter looks at him.

He looks furious- for a moment, Peter’s scared that Tony’s mad at him, but then realizes that would make his words contradictory.

“I’m so tired, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, tears streaming down his face. “I just want everything to be normal. I don’t want to freak out over ice cream or Kool-Aid- it’s been years and I’m still stuck back then.”

Something in Tony’s expression breaks. “Peter-”

“I just want to be normal. I just want to get better, Mr. Stark.” Peter sobs. “I’m tired of crying. And now whenever you see me, you’re going to think differently of me- you probably think that I’m- I’m some sort of-”

“No.” Tony says, and the firmness is back again. “Don’t say that- don’t say anything else.”

Tony places both his hands on Peter’s shoulders, steadying him. “Look at me. Look at me, Peter.”

Peter does, though not without hesitation.

“I don’t think of you differently, you hear me? I could never- not in a million years- think of you as anything but the kid who helps old ladies cross the street when he’s patrolling, the kid who gives Dum-E and U hugs every time he leaves, the kid who texts me weird-ass memes at three A.M when he should be sleeping. Do you understand?” Tony says, and Peter nods, letting out a small laugh, even through his tears.

“Another thing- you are normal, Peter. No one can help when bad things happen to them, and no one can help how those bad things affect them as a result. It’s not your fault- none of it is. That doesn’t make you any less normal than me, or Pepper, or even goddamn Captain America. It really doesn’t.” Tony continues, voice never wavering.

“I just-” Peter swallows, trying not to get choked up again, “-I just want to be fully normal. There are days where I’m, like, fine, but then I see something that reminds me, and I just- everything gets ruined.”

Tony’s quiet for a moment, and then, “Did you know that I can’t stand space? Like, at all?”

The confusion must be clear on Peter’s face, so Tony continues. “Ever since I flew the nuke into that wormhole during the Battle of New York, I can’t stand any mention of space. It freaks me out, and I get into a shitty mood. Same goes for Afghanistan- if I see a bucket of water, I immediately want to go in the other direction. And, yeah, it’s been years. But I am getting better- I have been for a while now. You can’t do this sort of thing alone- Pepper told me I should get help, so I did. I started seeing someone.”

“Did it work?” Peter asks quietly.

“It’s working.” Tony corrects. “There are still days where I feel like shit, but then there are days where I look at how far I’ve come. How much progress I’ve made. There isn’t a cure for this sort of thing, and I’m probably never going to be fully fine- but that’s okay. No one ever is, Pete. And no one should expect anyone else to be- demanding normalcy after going through something that changes you, how you feel- that’s bullshit, and anyone who thinks otherwise clearly doesn’t have half a brain cell to begin with..”

Peter is silent for a moment, taking this in. “What if whoever I talk to doesn’t… understand? What if they think I’m being stupid, or too hung up over it?”

“Well, if they think that, then they shouldn’t be a therapist to begin with. And it can take time to find someone who works for you- the first person I talked to gave me all this ‘look at the positives and appreciate how the sun shines’ crap. I can recommend you my therapist. She’s good at dealing with these sorts of things.” Tony brushes a stray lock of hair out of Peter’s face.

“Okay.” Petre says, and then, he hugs Tony.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. For everything.” he whispers.

“It’s no problem, kid. No problem at all.” Tony says, and hugs Peter back.

Peter smiles. 

It’s a watery smile, but still a smile.

***

Tony insists Peter stay the night. It’s late, he says, and Peter can’t help but agree. He’d feel pretty bad if he woke May up just by coming back to their apartment, and besides, the drive from here to Queens is sort of long- he wouldn’t want to have to force anyone to drive this late.

Tony gives May a call, and May is, surprisingly enough, considering her slight dislike for Tony, fine with him staying over for the night.

Peter doesn’t rejoin the party. Instead, he goes straight to his room in the compound- Tony’s fine with this, and says he’ll tell everyone Peter wasn’t feeling too good.

Peter changes into his pajamas- the oh-so familiar Hello Kitty pants and ‘I Survived My Trip to NYC’ t-shirt Tony got him the day of the ferry incident.

He’s tired, that’s for certain. Yet, he can’t bring himself to sleep. It’s weird, but Peter doesn’t want to have to face his dreams right now- no doubt filled with memories.

Thankfully, just as Peter’s about to chug a Red Bull or something to stay awake, Tony comes in, with a paper plate in each hand.

On each plate is a slice of cake, with pink frosting- chocolate flavored, of course.

“Feeling hungry, Pete?”

Peter nods, with a small smile. “Yeah, I could do cake.”

“Perfect- don’t tell Pepper about this little midnight snack, by the way. She’d kill me if she knew that I was feeding you sugar this late.” Tony says, and sits next to Peter on his bed- Peter’s tucked in, but he sits up anyway- and hands him the cake, along with a plastic fork.

Just as Peter’s about to take a bite of the cake, Tony holds up his hand, as if to pause him.

“Wait just a minute, Underoos. It seems like there’s something missing on that slice- I mean, it’s basically pure sugar, so it could do with a lot of things, but still.” Tony gets up and quickly leaves the room. 

It takes a few minutes- Peter considers eating Tony’s slice as a joke but decides against it, since no one, no one should be deprived of the goodness that is cake- and finally, Tony comes back with a pack of candles and a lighter- the lighter’s blue.

“You never got to make a wish, and I’d feel like a real monster if I deprived a child of the privilege of making a wish.” Tony explains upon seeing Peter’s confused face.

“Oh. Okay.” Peter says, and Tony sits back down on the bed. “I think sixteen candles might be a lot, though, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely right about that. Wouldn’t want to set off the sprinklers this late at night.” Tony agrees.

“You can- you can just put one.” Peter says, and Tony does so- the singular candle- as it probably always will- reminds him of the birthday sundae, but Peter does his best to not think about it, because today is not Today. What Happened will not happen.

Tony lights the candle, and before Peter can blow it out, he remembers something.

“You never told me what your present was.”

Tony grins. “Oh, so now you’re excited about it, huh?” he sets down the lighter, carefully, on the bed. “Well, I can’t exactly give it to you right now- it’s more of a ‘we-make-it-an-actual-thing’ sort of deal.”

Peter’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“I was thinking,” Tony clears his throat, looking down at his slice of cake, “That we could go to an old junkyard or something- and, before you ask, no, that’s not the present- and find an old car. Fix it up. You know, your first car, or something like that.”

Peter’s eyes light up. “Really? That sounds- that sounds really awesome, Mr. Stark. When can we go?”

At Peter’s reaction, Tony smiles, seeming somewhat relieved that Peter likes this idea. “Well, definitely not tomorrow, since your hot aunt’s expecting you back. But soon. Definitely soon.”

“Yeah. Soon.” Peter echoes- he really can’t wait, but it’d be mean to worry May even more than she probably already is.

“So. Are you gonna make a wish, kid, or should I steal it for myself? I could use a nice flat-screen for the lab, so you’d better hurry.” Tony teases, and Peter rolls his eyes good naturedly- he knows Tony could by a million TVs if he wanted to.

Peter looks down at the lit candle, the orange flickering light illuminating his face.

There are a lot of things he can wish for, sure. But he isn’t sure he wants to wish for something this year. Erasing what happened, throwing a rug over it and calling it a day isn’t going to work anymore. He can’t pretend- but he can’t live like this, either. He’s going to have to seek help, and Tony’s suggestion of his own therapist doesn’t sound so bad.

Peter will probably never be the same- but he knows now that it would be unreasonable to expect himself to be. All he can do is keep moving forward, making progress.

Peter closes his eyes and blows out the candle.

“What did you wish for, kid?” Tony asks, and Peter shakes his head.

“Nothing, actually. I didn’t wish for a thing.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “There’s clearly some sort of moral behind that, but I won’t question it. It’s time for cake.”

Peter takes a bite of his cake just as Tony does so.

The cake is sweet.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This was supposed to come out yesterday- for Peter's birthday- but I got lazy, so... happy late birthday, Peter! For those of you who don't know, Skip is a character from the OG Spidey comics who molests Peter when he was young. Thank you for reading!


End file.
